The ice cream parlour in St. Martin de Ré. I heard they are deliriously good. Of course, I had to try a flavour. Or maybe two…

I know, today is not Wednesday, but as I am going to embark on a real diet today (as opposed to just think about a real diet in horror), I am posting these pictures to have something nice to look at during the next weeks to come. Let’s hope I don’t lick the screen in desperation…

Two weeks on Île de Ré, and not only did I gain a tan, but also a few extra inches around the waist. My trousers appear to hug my hips in a tight embrace. The two stick together like first time lovesick teenagers. Let’s hope this summer romance isn’t more than a short-lived fling. You ask how this could happen? An analysis of photo material should bring light into this sombre affair.

It all started with…

my birthday and…

a bite of cake…

But that was only the beginning of my calorific disaster…

Waffle? What waffle? Quoi? In my hand? Ermm… I am just trying to shield away the blasting sunlight from little L’s head. I know. I am a doting mum.

Nonono. I am only holding the ice cream cone for big M. Seriously. I don’t even like ice cream. And no, my nickname is not Strawberry Cheesecake for a reason.

All the popcorn gone? Popcorn sales guy ran off as threatened to be popped himself if not able to deliver? I had nothing to do with it!

Now for the weigh-in:

Starting weight: 136 pounds

Goal weight: 125 pounds

Last weigh-in: 130 pounds

This week: I ‘ave absolutely no clue, zere are no scales in zee appartement. And yes, ignorance IS bliss!

Pounds lost: Je ne sais pas. But it feels like +3

How many pounds left to lose: 5? 8? One zillion?

Meet the other food lovers here.